


Keeping Up with the Waynes

by damianwaynerocks



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin: Son of Batman (Comics)
Genre: Batbrothers (DCU) Bonding, Batfamily (DCU), Bludhaven Police Department, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Cassandra Cain is Black Bat, Damian Wayne Acts Like a Kid, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Duke Thomas is Signal, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Tim Drake, Gotham City - Freeform, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Police Officer Dick Grayson, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Protective Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown Needs a Hug, Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Tim Drake is Red Robin, clark kent is a good uncle, no beta we die like robins, they all love each other dont @me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:27:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damianwaynerocks/pseuds/damianwaynerocks
Summary: "I work alone," Bruce said gruffly. Clark raised an eyebrow."You literally have eight children."-one-shots of the batfam bonding
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 44
Kudos: 610





	1. Tim Turns 18

**Author's Note:**

> yo, whaddup. i'm hype about this book. i love the batfam more than certain family members and all i want is for them to be happy so here we are, lets frickin go
> 
> \- 
> 
> Tim's birthday is in a week, and he refuses to tell anybody what he wants, so his siblings have to decide on a gift themselves.

"Tim!" Stephanie said as she hopped down the stairs into the cave where Tim was sitting at the Bat Computer. Her boyfriend that wasn't her boyfriend swiveled the seat to face her, cracking his neck as he did so.

"What's up, Steph?"

"Your birthday's tomorrow!" Stephanie chirped excitedly, "Are you excited!? You're turning eighteen!" 

"It's weird, that's for sure," Tim replied with a breathy laugh, "I feel like I've been seventeen for wayyy too long." He paused. "What'd ya get me?"

"Like I'd tell you," she snorted, "That's not how birthdays work, idiot."

"I can find out, I'll just look through your Amazon orders. That's how I know Dick got me a new coffee machine."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "This is why Damian hates you."

"No, he hates me because he's a demon," Tim replied as though it was obvious. "Speaking of which, where is he? I haven't seen him all day."

_

Damian was at the Kent Farm with his best friend, Jon. The pair were playing Cheese Viking together.

"So, are you going to Tim's party?" Jon asked as he leaned forward towards the tv. Damian big the inside of his cheek, focused on the game.

"Yes," he answered, "I promised Richard I would go."

"What'd ya get him?"

"Grayson suggested I get him something thoughtful, so I purchased him a book called _The Joy of Solo Sex."_

Tim put his controller down as he lost the game, frowning at his friend. "Damian."

"What?" Damian asked defensively, "He needs it! I read an article that the act of finishing reduces stress and increases serotonin. Perhaps this will help him with his clinical depression and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." Jon's face split into a smile.

"So you do care about him!"

"Do not be preposterous, I only want his mental health to improve so that Richard will stop speaking about it to me."

"Whatever you say," Jon said, obviously not buying it, "But I don't think he needs it. I overheard Kon talking on the phone about Tim's relationship with Stephanie."

"Drake and Brown?" Damian said with a curl of his lip, "Yes, they are close, however I cannot fathom how anybody could be interested in Drake."

Jon rolled his eyes. "I like Tim. He's cool. But maybe you could get him something else."

"What do you propose?"

Jon crossed his legs and put his elbows on his knees. "So, my friend at school told me that she was getting her mom a coupon book, except the coupons were favors. Like, she could cash favors in. One was 'Declan will do the dishes,' another was like 'Declan will go shopping with Mom.' Maybe you could do something like that but with 'Damian will be nice to Tim for one hour' or 'Damian will make Tim coffee.'"

"As if I would give Drake opportunities to act as though he is superior." Damian stood up and grabbed his capri-sun from Jon's nightstand, taking a sip.

Jon sucked in his teeth, before an idea struck him. "You said Dick suggested you get him something thoughtful, right? He'll probably be disappointed when he sees you got Tim something insulting." Damian stopped drinking abruptly.

"Your words do nothing to convince me."

"I know."

"I had already concluded that a coupon book would be a more suitable gift."

"Of course."

"You had nothing to do with my decision."

"Absolutely nothing," Jon agreed.

Damian turned back around. "Do you have any art supplies?"

_

"Can't I just get him a card?" Jason groaned into his phone.

 _"No, Master Jason, you have to get him a real present,"_ Alfred replied sternly. Jason sighed in defeat.

"Fine," he relented, "I'll get him a real present. What does he want?"

 _"That's for you to decide,"_ Alfred answered, _"You should be able to think of something. You're his brother."_

"You're right." Alfred wasn't right, Jason had no idea where to start, but he didn't want to disappoint the butler. "I'll find something. Thanks, Alf." Jason hung up his phone and put his hands in his hands.

"What would he want?" he wondered out loud, "All he does is work and hang out with Kon." He ran his hands through his hair, wracking his brain. Surely Tim had hobbies, or something he was interested in. Everybody had something they loved. Jason loved literature, Damian loved drawing, Dick loved- well, Dick loved anything any of them got him.

His eyes lit up as he remembered something. It was a few months ago, and Tim and Stephanie had been playing the game Taboo against Jason and Dick. Taboo was a game that was similar to charades, but it was in words. One teammate would get a word, and they would have to try to tell their teammate what the word was without saying the word itself. Tim's word had been 'egg-carton' and Tim had gotten Stephanie to guess it by saying "What did John Mulaney put fireworks in!?"

Tim had explained later that he loved John Mulaney.

Jason went to safari on his phone, and typed in the comedian's name. He saw that Mulaney was coming to Gotham, but tickets were sold out as the show was that night. Jason wasn't too upset, though. He had found out where Mulaney's show was at.

He typed in a number on his phone, and held it to his ear. "Hey Babs," he greeted, "I need a favor. Can you give me John Mulaney's phone number? I need to meet him."

After he got the number, Jason cleared his throat as he began to dial it, and grinned as the comedian answered.

"John Mulaney?" he asked, using the voice that was usually reserved for paparazzi. "My name is Jason Todd-Wayne, Bruce Wayne's son. Can I ask you for a favor?"

Jason had been re-introduced to the world a few months prior. The story was that Jason had been kidnapped, and his death was faked. 

An hour later, Jason was in a suit and sitting in a fancy diner that he paid for with one of Bruce's credit cards. He stood up as John met him at his table, and held out a hand for him to shake. "Mr. Mulaney," he greeted, flashing an award-winning smile, "Thank you for meeting me with such short notice."

"Of course!" John replied, "No worries at all. What favor do you need?"

The men sat down as Jason began to speak. "So, it's my brother's birthday in two days, and he's a huge fan. I was wondering if maybe possibly I could convince you to give me an autograph and I could record you saying happy birthday?"

"Oh, for sure," John answered, waving his hand dismissively, "As long as I have permission to put this conversation in my show. People love to hear anything about the Waynes."

"Permission granted."

_

It was July 19th. Tim's birthday.

The family room- one of many, but this one was Tim's favorite -was filled with presents. Tim was on the center couch, looking uncomfortable.

Dick clapped his hands. "Okay, Timmy! Open your presents!"

"Are you sure?" Tim asked nervously, "Maybe we should eat first."

"Nonsense, Tim," Bruce said, "Open them!"

Tim sighed, and reached for the nearest present, a small wrapped with Christmas wrapping paper. "To Tim, from Cass," he read the tag, and opened it. He grinned as he pulled out the present. "Are these tickets to the showing of Swan Lake at the Gotham Ballet Academy!?" he exclaimed, "Thanks so much! You're the best!" Cass smiled, blushing slightly.

Tim moved on to the next present, picking up Stephanie's. The blonde bit her lip, excited yet nervous. Was it too emotional? She'd put a lot of time and effort into it. WHat if he thought it was too much? They weren't official or anything like that.

Tim pulled out a bonded red book with the Red Robin emblem on the cover and frowned. "What is it?"

"I looked through all the forums and superhero fansites and found every Red Robin appreciation post and put them together," Stephanie explained, "It's a book full of people who love Red Robin. In case you ever feel like you shouldn't be a hero, you can look at it."

Tim smiled. "Thanks, Steph. I love it." He squeezed her hand in thanks, and turned to Damian's present, which was in a small green bag. He pulled a small coupon booklet out of the bag and flipped through it. He looked at Damian with a shocked expression. "Is this what I think it is?"

Damian huffed, crossing his arms. "Yes. You can cash in these papers and I will do what they say."

"'Damian will compliment Drake,' 'Damian will not insult Drake for two hours,' 'Damian will defend Drake's honor,'" Tim read the cards aloud. He smirked. "Thanks, Damian, I'm super hype to use these."

"Of course you are, you-"

"Ah ah ah," Tim cut him off, ripping out the piece of paper that said Damian wouldn't insult him, "You have to be nice to me!"

Damian sighed, and nodded silently.

Tim moved on to Dick's present, thanking him multiple times at the high tech espresso machine, and hugging Babs as he opened her gift, a new, customized laptop. He got to Bruce's present, and his eyes began to water.

It was a framed picture of him in his Robin uniform, smiling brightly beside Bruce, the older man's arm swung around his shoulder. Tim looked up at his father. "Thank you," he whispered. Bruce smiled, ruffling his hair. 

Jason cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt the touching father-son moment but my present is the best, Timbo, so open it." He tossed a present to his younger brother who caught it with ease.

Tim unwrapped the present, and his lips curled into disgust. "Jason, why did you get me one single condom? With writing on it?"

"Well, you must not be as big a fan as you think you are!" Jason replied, "Because that, my dear brother, is John Mulaney's autograph.

"You got John Mulaney's autograph!?"

"Yep!" Jason chirped, "And that's not all!" He fished out his phone from his pocket, and pressed play on a video.

It was John Mulaney at the diner. _"Hey, Tim!"_ the comedian said, _"I heard it's your eighteenth birthday! You're eighteen and you're CEO of Wayne Enterprises? When I was eighteen I was doing cocaine and pretending to be religious! Have fun being an adult, here's a condom that you can use with a special someone!"_ he paused, _"But not really, the ink will hurt your penis and then you'll have to go to the doctor. Keep your street smarts and don't do cocaine!"_

Tim looked up with an awe-struck look. "I. Love it," he whispered. "John Mulaney said my name. John Mulaney knows my name! Thanks, Jay, I'm sorry for calling you a cheap knockoff of Deadpool."

_"You called me a what!?"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim does something nice for Damian. Damian doesn't believe his intentions are pure.

“Hey, guys!” Dick chirped happily, having far too much energy for so early in the morning. 

Damian grunted in response, stabbing his pancakes with a fork before putting it into his mouth. He was angry. Somebody had torn the hood off of his cape. 

Jason sighed, rubbing his temples. “How are you so happy,” he grumbled to Dick, “It’s so early, dude.”  
“I’m happy because I have news!” Dick responded. “It’s about Tim. He-”

“He is a  nuckelavee!” Damian interrupted. “I knew it!”

“What’s a nuckelavee?” Jason asked with a frown.

“It is a Scottish creature that is said to have a swine’s mouth and its breath alone can kill a man.”

Jason blinked at Damian, and then said: “I will give you $5,000 if Dick says that Tim’s a nuckelavee.”

“Todd, you do not  _ possess _ $5,000.”

“No, but Bruce does, and I _ possess _ one of his credit cards.”

“No, Tim is not a Scottish monster,” Dick huffed, interrupting them. “I was going to say that Tim just bought a building at Gotham Landing. He’s using it to-”

“To put on his makeup to cover up his hideous, scaled face,” Damian cut him off. Dick’s eyebrow twitched.

“No, Damian. He bought it for you,” he said in an exasperated tone, “He noticed you’ve been selling those dog treats you’ve been making at school, and so he bought you a shop so you could sell them there.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “I do not believe it.”

“Believe it, Dames,” Dick replied, swiping a pancake- no syrup -off of the table. “Because we’re going to see it as soon as you’re done.” With that, Dick turned around and left, presumably to head to his old room.

Damian tapped his fork against his plate, turning to Jason. “Something is awry.”

“You’re telling me,” Jason agreed, “I know you two love each other underneath your bitter rivalry-” Damian made a disgusted face “But to go as far as buy you a building? Sketch as hell.”

The youngest Wayne drummed his fingers on the table. “Drake would not do so something nice without cause. He has done something to me and this is his way of making sure I do not slaughter him, that is the only possible explanation.”

“Maybe he just wants you out of his hair?” Jason pondered aloud, “You have been spending a lot of time making those vegan dog treats. He’d get more alone time with you out of the house.”

“No, I am correct, if Drake wanted to be away from me he would simply go to Titans Tower.”

Dick came back at that moment, grabbing Damian by the arm and dodging the punch thrown by his other as Damian wrenched his arm back. “Let’s go, D-Man!”

“Richard don’t  _ ever _ call me D-Man,” he snarled.

“Whatever you say, D-Dawg.”

_

Once in the car, Damian scowled. “I still cannot believe Drake is doing this without cause.”

“Damian, he loves you. That’s why and that’s enough.”

“What a ridiculous notion, Richard. I would think you would have the intellectual capacity to know that Drake would not do something out of love.”

Dick bit his lip. “Okay, well can you at least be polite?”

“Oh, I see,” Damian said, putting a hand on his chin, “If I am nice, he will be more open and therefore more willing to spill his secrets.”

“No, wait, that’s not what I-”

“And whenever he reveals to me his secrets, I can utilize them to persuade him to act at my beck and call!” Damian continued excitedly.

“Damian you’re learning the wrong message-”

“Richard, perhaps you are not as dumb as I thought! I will be very polite and thankful.”

Dick opened his mouth, before closing it again.  _ Don’t like how we got here,  _ he thought,  _ But I’m glad that we’re here. _

_

They arrived shortly after, and Damian hopped out of the car with a false smile spread across his face. “Timothy!” he greeted, “My favorite sibling! Hello, how are you?”

Tim blinked. “Uh, good? I bought you a building.”

“Yes!! And I am eternally grateful.”

Tim took a step back in shock. “Okay, well, this way!” he led the two into the building. “I know it’s kinda small, but I figured that’d be best since you probably won’t hire any employees so small would be best.”

“What an excellent idea!”

Tim looked at Dick. “Is he okay?” At Dick’s nod, Tim continued. “I’ve got a construction crew coming tomorrow, you just need to come up with the layout you want.”

Damian nodded excitedly. “Yes! I will get right on that. Drake, you are the best!” 

The brothers talked for a while longer, before Dick and Damian got back into the car to head to the manor. Damian shivered as he buckled his seatbelt.

“That is the single most difficult task I have ever completed,” he said. Dick rolled his eyes.

___

Things went well over the next few weeks. Damian finished the design, and Tim got to work on organizing the construction. He also, after a full day of coaxing, helped Damian make as many dog treats as possible to take to the shop. Surprisingly, Damian found himself having to fake a smile less and less. Apparently, Tim wasn’t that bad of company. 

“So, last thing,” Tim said as they pulled up to the shop. Damian frowned.

“What do you mean? Everything is finished.”

Tim hummed in response. 

The two hopped out of the car, and Damian stopped in his tracks. 

Above the door was a sign that read ‘Damian & Titus’ Bakery.’

“I forgot to come up with a name,” Damian stated. “I like this one. Good work, Timothy.” Tim smiled.

“Of course, Damian,” he replied, “You’re my brother.”

“I’m sorry I had doubts about your intentions,” Damian admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, “I suppose you were just trying to be nice.”

Tim bit the inside of his cheek. “Well, now that you’re happy, I guess I should tell you that I accidentally sliced off your hood when I was practicing with the new batarangs.”

Damian blinked. “So, you bought this building so I would not slaughter you?”

“Originally, but now I’m happy I did. We got to bond.”

Damian stared at him for a solid minute, before his lips slowly slid up into a smile. Tim took a nervous step backward.

Damian clenched his fists in excitement. “My tactic worked! I successfully convinced you with my charm into doing my bidding! I am the master strategist, I can’t wait to tell Jon!” 

“So, you aren’t mad?” Tim asked slowly. 

“No, I am furious. You destroyed my cape, you _nuckelavee”_ With that, Damian lunged.


	3. Alfred's the Boss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most think that it's Bruce who keeps the boys in line. They're wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Dick sings is real! It's called 'Nightwing' by Aaron Dews.

“BATMAN BATMAN BATMAN HOW YOU STAND FOR THE LATE NIGHT BATMAN BATMAN BATMAN HOW YOU WAKE UP FOR THE SAME FIGHT!”

Tim’s eyebrow twitched. “Dick,  _ please _ , I’m begging you,  _ shut up! _ ”

Dick had been bored and had decided to search ‘Nightwing’ on Spotify. Low and behold, he had found a song about him.

And he wouldn’t shut up about it.

“NIGHTWING! TAKE FLIGHT! NIGHTWING! TAKE FLIGHT!” Dick seemed not to hear him.

Damian sighed, “I have never seen Richard’s ego this inflated before. It is infuriating.”

“TRY ME, JOKER! TRY ME, BLUDHAVEN!!”

Tim groaned, rubbing his temples. “There’s only one person who can shut him up now,” he stated. Damian nodded.

“I hate to agree with you, Drake, but you are correct. I will fetch him.” Damian rose from the table and walked off in the direction of the kitchen.

“WELCOME TO THE NIGHT TIME! WELCOME TO THE NIIIIGHT TIIIME!!”

Damian returned after Dick started rapping, Alfred close behind. The butler cleared his throat. “Master Dick?”

Dick immediately stopped singing and turned to him with a grin. “Sup, Alfie? You’ll never guess what I found! Somebody wrote a song about Nightwing and it’s so crash. Wanna hear it?” he cleared his throat. “WELC-”

“No, Master Dick” Alfred interrupted, “Not now. Maybe later. It’s lunchtime right now, and that is no place for singing.”

“But Alfred, it’s so good-”

“No, Master Dick, not during a meal.”

Dick sighed. “Alright. You’re the boss.”

___

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!?”

“We didn’t do anything!!”

“My ass you didn’t do anything!!”

Jason was mad. He was furious. He hadn’t been so angry since he caught a man punching a child redhanded. The Red Hood was seeing red.

“We didn’t do it! I swear!” Stephanie squealed as she jumped on to the railing of the stairs, barely dodging Jason’s punch. 

“I swear on my  _ dead body _ that I am going to  _ kill you both _ in the most _ painful  _ way Damian can teach me!” Jason howled, his fists shaking.

“Oh, come on!” Tim huffed from where he was perched on the chandelier, out of Jason’s range. “You’re going to bring in the gremlin for something as small as this!?”

“‘Smal!?’” Jason echoed, his voice rising with even more fury. “You think this is small!? Do you have any idea what you’ve done!!”

“We didn’t do it, you idiot!” Stephanie snapped as she ducked another punch from Jason. “And even if we did, this is such an overreaction!”

“An overreaction!?” Jason all but screeched. He rushed at Stephanie, who did a backflip out of the way, almost landing on top of Colin.

“Woah!” Damian’s friend said, wobbling backward. “What gives?”

“Jason’s gone psycho!” Stephanie panted, her eyes wide. “He thinks we spray painted his helmet pink!”

“THAT’S BECAUSE YOU DID!” Jason roared from where he was crawling up the banister to attack Tim, who was screaming as he tried to fend him off.

Colin looked at Damian with wide eyes. “Dude!! You said he wouldn’t be mad!”

“Colin, shut your mouth!” Damian hissed, side-eyeing Stephanie to make sure she hadn’t heard. 

She had.

“Damian and Colin did it!!” she yelled, pointing at the two 13-year-olds. “I heard them!! I have a confession!!”

Damian cursed and Colin gulped as Jason slowly turned around, his eyes wild. This looked like Jason from three years ago, before he had forgiven the family. “You,” he whispered, pointing at the pair, “I WILL END YOU!!”

“Crap!” Colin cried, sprinting in the direction of Damian’s room. The other boy stood his ground, getting into a fighting stance.

“You think you frighten me, Todd?” he sneered, “I have the superior skills, the superior mind, you do not stand a chance, I will def-” he trailed off, his eyes bugging out of his head as the crazed, animalistic look in his brother’s eyes. He turned, running after his friend. “Colin! Do not lock the door!”

“Too late!” Colin’s voice was distant, already inside the room. “Every man for himself!!”

“You turncoat!!” Damian yelled back, before turning to the right, heading to another bedroom, Jason hot on his heels.

“Hey!! Don’t go into my room!!” Tim shouted, “I just cleaned it!”

“Every man for himself, Drake!” Damian’s voice was heard. Tim and Stephanie exchanged a glance, knowing what had to be done.

“Open the door, you Demon Brat!!” Jason snarled, banging on Tim’s door.

“Never!” Damian grunted as he pushed a dresser in front of the door to keep Jason out. 

“I will shoot you in the ass to watch you squirm around on the ground, and then I’ll put a _bullet_ right between your fuckin eyes-”

“ _Master Jason_!!”

Jason stiffened, turning around to see Alfred, who was looking at him with a stern gaze. “I am disappointed in your behavior,” the butler said firmly, “Threatening to murder your little brother because of a small prank that can be easily fixed?” Although Jason was a good six inches taller than Alfred, he might as well have been 4’6 again with how Alfred seemed to be looming over him. “Now, what do you have to say to your family?”

“Sorry,” Jason muttered.

“Louder, Master Jason.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason said louder, “For threatening to kill you.” He made eye contact with Damian as the younger boy opened the door. “And I’m sorry for threatening you with a Tiger King line.”

Alfred nodded. “Good job, Master Jason. Now, let’s go to the Cave and fix your helmet.” 

“Alright,” Jason murmured, following Alfred with his shoulders slumped, looking like a dog who just got scolded by its master, “You’re the boss.”

___

Tim Drake was eighteen.

Tim Drake was CEO of a multi-billion dollar international company with a hefty salary.

Tim Drake had a trust fund.

Tim Drake had a caffeine addiction.

Tim Drake’s girlfriend who wasn’t his girlfriend- one of the few people who could talk him down from his crazy ideas -was out of town.

These were the factors that caused Tim Drake to have a bad idea.

“Dude, you can’t just  _ buy _ the Starbucks chain.”

“Watch me, Duke.”

Tim was sitting in one of the family rooms with his laptop on his lap, a cup of coffee in his hand, and two concerned brothers standing over him.

“Yeah, Tim, that’s too much power for you,” Dick agreed. Tim rolled his eyes.

“I practically fund Starbucks with how much I go there, so I might as well own it.”

Dick and Duke exchanged a nervous glance. Tim had gotten the ‘bright’ idea that he should buy the Starbucks chain. 

This idea was not bright.

“Tim, you don’t have the time to run Starbucks on top of WE, the Titans and being Red Robin,” Duke pointed out, “You’re barely surviving as it is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m great at time management.”

“Timmy,” Dick began gently, “When was the last time you took a shower?”

“I don’t have time to show-” Tim broke off with a scowl. “I see what you’re trying to do. I’ve been working, Dick, grinding like the driven, owning-Starbucks-worthy person I am. I don’t  _ need  _ to shower.”

“I’m gonna have to disagree with you there, Champ.” Duke scrunched up his nose. “No offense, but you smell like sh-”

“Language!” Dick snapped, “But he has a point. You don’t take care of yourself.”   
Tim rolled his eyes. “Because work comes first. I’m buying Starbucks, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Duke bit his lip, before an idea struck him, and he walked out of the room. Tim smirked.  “See? Duke gets it. He knows you can’t change my mind. Dick, you should follow his lead, because there’s nothing anyone can do to make me not buy Starbucks.”

“Are you sure about that, Master Tim?”

Tim jumped, turning to Alfred. “Oh, hey Alfred!” he greeted. Alfred narrowed his eyes.

“Master Duke tells me you want to purchase Starbucks,” he began, “But that is a bad idea. You don’t have the time or energy to run that company as well as your other activities.”

“But Alfred-” Tim started to protest.

Alfred raised his hand to stop him. “No buts, Master Tim. Close your laptop, and go take a shower.”

Tim sighed, doing as he was told. “Alright,” he grumbled, not seeing Duke gag as he walked by him, “You’re the boss.”

___

“Alright,” Damian said, cracking his knuckles and he stood at the Bat Computer, “Who are you?”

Earlier that day, Damian had found one of his friends, Maps, crying outside Gotham Academy. After some gentle coaxing (“Tell me what is the matter right now before I make you”) Maps had admitted that a boy she had been dating was only dating her because he was dared to.

That made Damian angry.

That made Damian want revenge. “Death before dishonor!” he had snarled, but Maps had grabbed his arm before he could stand up.

“Dames, please don’t say anything to him,” she had begged. 

“I promise,” he had replied. And he had meant it. Damian Wayne wasn’t going to have a talk with him.

Robin was.

That brings us here, to Damian typing ‘Joshua Summel’ into the Bat Computer.

Everything seemed normal at first glance. He was at GA because his father was a big-shot defense attorney. He was fourteen. His friends consisted of- to no true surprise -only white people and only people who can from money. 

Damian also found his address.

He smirked, committing it to memory. He slipped on his Robin suit and started to head to his motorcycle before a voice stopped him.

“Going somewhere, Master Damian?”

“Yes,” Damian said smoothly to Alfred, “On patrol.”

“Oh? And who is Joshua Summel? Is he a victim?” 

Damian turned to face him. “Yes,” he said stiffly. Alfred raised a disbelieving eyebrow

“Master Damian, has anyone ever told you that your nostrils flare when you lie?”

Damian gritted his teeth. “Listen, Pennyworth, this child is putrid. He was romantically involved with my friend on a dare.”

“Did this friend ask you for help?”

"Well, no-”

“Did she tell you to do anything?”

“She told  _ Damian _ not to do anything, not Robin.”

Alfred narrowed his eyes. “You will stay here tonight.”

“But Pennyworth-”

“‘But Pennyworth’ nothing,” Alfred interrupted, “You are staying here, and that’s final.”

Damian threw his hands in the air in defeat. If it were anyone else, he would roll his eyes, but it was Alfred Pennyworth. He was the boss.

  
  
  



	4. Not So Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Damian's birthday, and Jon and Colin decide to throw him a surprise party, not knowing the true reason Damian doesn't like to celebrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo this is lowkey rushed sorry bout that but!! I am tired and have no excuse

_ “Marry me, Juliet, you’ll never have to be alone…” _

The ringtone cut off as Jon answered his phone. “Hey, Colin,” he greeted with a yawn, having just woken up, “What’s up?”

“ _ Okay, so, I was at Damian’s talking to Alfred yesterday,”  _ his friend began, “ _ and I mentioned that I had no idea when Damian’s birthday was and guess what!? It’s today.” _

“What!?”

“ _ Right!? So I asked him why Damian didn’t tell us and he said he’s never celebrated his birthday with the Waynes except for a piece of cake with him last year. Like the dude has never had a birthday party.” _

“That’s bonkers,” Jon said, “I can’t believe it. He’s been with ‘em for what, almost four years?”

_ “Something like that.” _

“We gotta throw him a party this year,” Jon said firmly, clenching his fist with a determined frown. 

“ _ I agree 110%. Surprise party?” _

“Oh, for sure, he’d never agree to one himself even though he would definitely want one. His whole ‘I am mature’ act.”

_ “Great! Can you come pick me up so we can plan it at your house?”  _

“Be there in a flash!”

He meant it, too, because within two seconds Jon had flown out of his room to Gotham and back to his room with the red-haired boy in his arms.

“Okay,” Colin said, standing up and brushing off his jeans, “What should we do?”

Jon paused, thinking. “Cake, for sure. Gotta make it vegan. I’ll google how to find the best one.”

“Probs will be in Gotham,” Colin pointed out, “Which’ll be hard to get without Damian knowing.” 

“Not unless we tell him we’re busy or something,” Jon suggested as he typed ‘vegan birthday cakes’ on his phone. “Okay, yeah, you’re right, there’s one in Gotham. It costs-” his eyes widened “$200!?”

Colin sucked in his teeth. “Okay so that’s a lot.” He snapped his fingers. “Wait, I got it. We can get Dick in on this, he’ll love the idea! He’d give us his card.”

“He’d also tell Damian,” Jon snorted. Colin winced.

“Frick, you’re right. Uhh,” he bit his lip, “Jason?”

Jon gave him a blank stare before the two burst out laughing.

“We could try making our own!” Jon suggested, “I’ll Pinterest recipes and get Mom to help.”

“You’re a genius, my dude,” Colin praised, “Now presents. And decorations. And music.”

Jon’s eyes gleamed. “This is gonna be so crash.”

____

Damian hated his birthday.

It was his least favorite day of the year. His 13th hadn’t been so bad, sure, in fact he had made the effort to celebrate it. He’d had cake with Alfred, and it was nice. 

Or at least, he’d told the butler it was nice.

The truth was that whenever Damian made it back to his room after the celebration, he had a full-blown panic attack. 

Nobody knew why Damian hated his birthday. Dick had asked him multiple times, but Damian refused to answer him. It was too embarrassing. It would make him seem weak.

So to distract himself from the dreaded day- August 9th -Damian was going to go on a mission with Jon and Colin. Not to celebrate, of course, as he had no intention of letting his friends know. They’d try to celebrate it. 

He’d texted the group chat a few hours ago, but had gotten no response. That wasn’t normal. Jon loved the group chat, and would usually answer it within ten seconds. 

He sighed, setting his phone down, using the hand to scratch Titus behind the ears. “I guess we’ll just train, then,” he said to his dog. Titus barked in reply, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Suddenly, his phone rang. It was from Jon. Damian picked up his phone and answered it. “Damian,” he said.

_ “Hey, Dames!” _ his friend chirped, “ _ I just saw your text. Colin and I are at my house, Mom has to sew up my jacket. Kon’s sending the Superbike to come get you. Will you meet us here?” _

“Alright,” Damian sighed, “But you need to start being careful. Your mother cannot keep fixing your uniform forever.”

_ “Yeah, yeah,”  _ Jon responded dismissively, _ “Just get over here.” _ He hung up.

Shortly after, Damian was arriving at the Kent farm in the Superbike. He hopped out, stretching his arms as he walked towards the door. He opened it, ready to lecture Jon about how he should be more careful and pay attention to his phone until-

“Surprise!!” 

Colin and Jon were standing in front of him with party hats on their heads. There was a banner that had “Happy Birthday Damian!” scrawled in messy red writing and a cake on the kitchen table. Damian’s friends looked at him with wide smiles, waiting for a reaction.

Damian’s heart dropped. His face paled. The room started spinning. “You imbeciles!” he snarled, “Don’t you think that if I wanted a celebration I would have informed you!?” His legs were shaking, his chest heaving. His eyes were locked on his name on the banner written in red. Damian shook his head. “The audacity! Get out of my sight!” He staggered backward out the door. He leaned on the wall of the house for support as he walked outside, back towards the Superbike.

The world was tilting. Damian collapsed to his knees, his face in his hands. He was trembling as his mind flashed back to his 8th birthday

_ “Happy Birthday, Damian,” his mother said with a vicious grin, handing him a sword. “Go get your presents.” _

“No,” he whispered, gripping his skull. “No!” he cried louder. 

“Damian!” a hand rested on his shoulder, and Damian’s eyes snapped open as he grabbed it, flipping Colin over his shoulder.

“Get away!” he screamed, “Not again! I will not do it, I refuse!”

“Dames!” Jon called, helping Colin to his feet. “Take a deep breath,” he paused, biting his lip. What had his father told him about helping people with panic attacks? “I want you to look around and count how many blue things you see. Can you do that?” 

Damian’s chest heaved as his eyes flitted around his surroundings, doing as he was told. The sky was blue, the mailbox was blue, the bike had blue accents, Jon’s shirt was blue.

It took hours- although it might have been minutes -but Damian eventually calmed down. He looked up at his friends. He cleared his throat. “I- I apologize that you had to see that. I will be on my way, now.”

“Wait, no,” Jon protested, stepping forwards, “What happened? I’m sorry we freaked you out. We didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, we’re sorry,” Colin added, “We didn’t know this would happen.”

Damian gulped. He sighed. He might as well tell them. Otherwise they would tell Bruce, he reasoned, and then he would be forced to tell his father. “When I was with the League,” he said slowly, “My mother had a tradition. Every year on my birthday, she would-” he gulped “-she would have me kill the same number of men as my age. Eight people when I turned eight. Nine people when I turned nine. And then she would make me write my name in my own blood.”

Jon and Colin’s faces paled. “We had no idea,” Jon said softly. 

“I know,” Damian replied, “I cannot celebrate my birthday because of it. It reminds me of who I was.”

“That’s not fair,” Colin growled, his fists trembling in rage, “She shouldn’t have that much power. She shouldn’t have done that.”

“Colin’s right,” Jon agreed, “She shouldn’t have control over you still.” Damian laughed bitterly.

“I agree. But she does, because I am weak.”

“No, Damian,” Jon smiled softly, “You aren’t. You’re the strongest person I know.” He paused. “I’m sorry we threw you the birthday party without asking, but it isn’t right you can’t celebrate. We should do something.”

“I would rather chew off my own foot,” Damian snorted, feigning confidence, trying to stop his jaw from trembling. Truth be told, it would be nice to be able to celebrate his birthday. But he couldn’t have a party. He just couldn’t.

Jon seemed to sense this. “Alright. No party, no celebration. How about we go to Gotham and get Bat Burger before we go on that mission you wanted?”

“I told you I have no intention of celebrating.”

“This won’t be a celebration. Just three friends getting lunch.”

Damian thought it over. “No mention of my birthday,” he said firmly. Jon and Colin nodded.

“Scouts honor,” they said simultaneously. 

Damian bit his lip. “Alright. I suppose a salad would be nice.”

Jon grinned. That was Damian for ‘I’d love to.’ “Okay, D,” he said excitedly, “Let’s go eat greasy food.”

They did just that. They laughed at the burger joint, they laughed on the way to Africa, they laughed as Colin threw up in the bushes in the middle of a fight after three burgers.

Damian would never admit this to anyone, but truthfully? He enjoyed his fourteenth birthday.


	5. Damian's First Journal Entry- Why He Isn't Allowed to Work with Mystery Inc

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce is forcing Damian to start a journal. His first entry? Why he isn't allowed to work with Mystery Inc anymore.

So, hello, I guess. My name is Damian Wayne. Grayson, my older brother, suggested I start writing a journal. Of course, I strongly objected to this, however after talking to Dinah Lance, Father agreed that it would help with my 'trauma.'

I'm not allowed to go back and edit this so if there are spelling errors, my apologies.

So I suppose my first entry will be about the mayhem that happened with Mystery Incorporated.

We'd heard reports of reports of a group of people sneaking around Wayne Enterprises so of course we had to check it out. Father didn't want me to go because 'you have homework damian' but Wayne Enterprises is MY birthright so?? Of course I had to go??

I followed Father and Grayson carefully and because I am me, Damian Wayne, they didn't notice me behind them. I caught up to them right as they had surrounded the group of teenagers and surprisingly there was?? No fighting??

Apparently they knew each other??

"Batman!" a boy with blonde hair and an atrocious-looking ascot around his neck yelled.

Seriously who wears ascots anymore?? Pennyworth would faint if he saw that.

Father narrowed his eyes. "Fred," he grunted, "And the rest of you. What are you doing in Gotham this time?"

"Somebody's been dressing up as a vampire and scaring people away from Wayne Enterprises at night," a girl in an orange sweater replied, "So we were checking it out. You seriously didn't know about this?"

"I've had my hands full."

By having his hands full, Father meant going off-world to deal with some space threat because of course Hal Jordan couldn't handle it on his own. The imbecile.

I was away, also, on a mission with my best friend, Jon. He's alright I suppose. Annoyingly positive, but alright. He eats vegan burgers with me, at least.

Grayson had been in Bludhaven so we had entrusted Todd to watch Gotham but of course he missed something as significant as a threat to Wayne Enterprises?? I decided I would have a talk with him whenever he returned.

It was then I saw him. 

My body buzzed with excitement. It was a dog.

And then it happened.

THE DOG TALKED.

THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, THE DOG T A L K E D

"Reah, we were helping!" the dog barked gleefully.

I screamed in excitement and fell off the lamp post I had been holding on to.

I couldn't help it, and you couldn't have helped it either if you saw it.

Everybody looked at me.

"Robin," Batman growled, "I told you to stay behind!"

"Yeah, Robin, you had an essay to do!" Grayson agreed.

"How do you expect me to focus on an essay whenever there is a talking dog!?" I demanded as I walked to the hound.

The dog narrowed his eyes. "Rog? Where?"

"Like, hi Robin," a lanky boy who looked like he lived off marijuana and those ridiculous memes that Drake loved greeted, "This is Scooby-Doo."

"Hello Scooby-Doo it is an honor to meet you I am so excited," I babbled as I scratched him behind his ears. I usually would not act like such a child but. This is a talking dog.

"Come back with us to the Bat Cave," Father said to Ascot-Guy, who must be their team leader which is a terrible decision in my opinion because?? An ASCOT?? In 2020??

So anyways, we then went back to the Cave after blindfolding the group because there was no way we were trusting a team who entrusted their safety to an ascot-wearing buffoon to know the location of the Cave.

Father drove their vehicle, a van that looked like it was painted while lanky-guy smoked marijuana, to the Cave while Grayson rode in the Bat Mobile and I drove my Red Bird.

We got to the Cave and I instantly hopped off my motorcycle and threw open the back of the van where the dog was and enveloped him in a hug. "Let's go, Scooby-Doo, I can show you my sword collection!" I said excitedly before Father rested a hand on my shoulder.

"No time, Robin," he said, "We need a plan on how to catch this vampire."

"Oh, we have a plan," Ascot said with a wave of his hand, "Velma, Daphne and I are going to put a trip-wire down which will drop a barrel on top of him, and then we'll rush forward with chains and tie him up."

"How will you get him to fall for the trip-wire?" Grayson asked.

"Well, we'll use Shaggy and Scooby as bait, of course."

I saw red. I was shaking in fury. They were going to use?? The DOG?? As BAIT????? They were going to put the DOG IN DANGER???

Not on my watch, no sir.

"Absolutely not!" I exploded, "You are not going to put that dog in danger!! What is wrong with you, you ascot-wearing oaf!! I should call the police on you right this instant for animal cruelty!!"

Ascot blinked and took a step back. "S-Sorry Robin, it's just tradition!"

"No way!" Marijuana Man said, "I agree with the scary one! Kind of. Like, no police, but Scooby and I do not want to be bait!"

"Oh no, you can be bait," I said.

"Oh, come on guys!" Orange Girl urged, "I'll give you a Scooby Snack!"

"Scooby Snack!?" Scooby barked, "Roh boy! Rive me on of rose!"

"Like, oh boy, oh boy!" Marijuana Ma- Shaggy, agreed.

My eyes widened. "You would put your beloved friend in danger for a dog biscuit!?"

"Like, try one, kid!" Shaggy said, handing him a biscuit. I scrunched my nose at it but bit into it anyways.

When I tell you that it was the most amazing thing that has ever graced my tastebuds, I mean it.

It tasted like the feeling of working with Richard. It tasted like heaven. It tasted like the feeling of defeating a bad guy. It tasted like the feeling of saving an innocent. It was better than even Pennyworth's cooking.

Of course, I couldn't let them know that, though.

"Give me that!" I snapped, ripping the box from her hand, "I will be confiscating this."

Really, though, I just wanted it for myself and to give to Pennyworth so he could hopefully find some.

"I will be bait instead of Scooby-Doo," I declared, "Because clearly you people care more about food than safety."

"Robin, you do know that being bait requires you to act scared, right?" Grayson asked gently. I scoffed.

"Of course it does, and I can act scared!"

I meant it, too. I would just pretend I was watching that Hereditary movie that I went and saw with Todd.

Or that time I walked in on Drake and Brown having coitus in the Bat Cave.

That is the real trauma I need to write in this journal for. Growing up with assassins? Forget it. Dying? No big deal. Seeing Drake's genitals? I will be needing years of therapy for that.

So that's how I ended up outside my inheritance building with Shaggy. I was dressed in civilians clothes with sunglasses to hide my identity.

"Like, you know only weird people wear sunglasses in the dark, right?" Shaggy said, taking a bite of a hotdog he had pulled out of nowhere.

"Incorrect," I disagreed, "My brother happens to say that only cool people wear sunglasses in the dark."

"If you say so."

We were loitering outside the building and I was bored.

"Do you smoke marijuana?" I asked bluntly. Shaggy choked on his hotdog.

"No?"

I opened my mouth to argue with him before we heard a screech. I looked up and saw a poor costume of a vampire coming towards us.

Shaggy screamed and started to run and, picturing Drake's thing in my mind, I screamed and ran after him, through the double doors of the building.

We hopped over the trip-wire, and skidded to a halt in front of the stairs. The vampire was running towards us but gave a weird yelp whenever it tripped.

At that moment, a barrel fell from the ceiling and landed on the creature. Ascot-Man and Grayson jumped out of the shadows, tying the creature up in chains.

"Ah ha!" A lady with red hair- Daphne, I think -yelled victoriously. "Not so scary now, are ya?"

Velma followed her out of the shadows, Father close behind. Velma took off the vampire mask, and revealed- my English teacher??

I wasn't really shocked, though. He was a Trump supporter.

Velma rattled off obvious reasons why he was in Wayne Enterprises and apparently he just?? Wanted into the safe??

There's so many more easier ways to do that than dressing up as a vampire??

So that was that. Kind of. We tied the guy up, calling Gordon, and left and went back to the Bat Cave where we saw Scooby-Doo sleeping on top of the dinosaur.

Scoobysaurous Rex perked up as he heard us come in, and his tongue lolled as he ran down the tail of the statue and jumped into Shaggy's arms.

Father congratulated them but me?? I absolutely did not.

I once again gave them an earful about how irresponsible they were to put Scooby-Doo in danger.

"If I find out you have done that again I will personally have your liver on a platter-"

Grayson interrupted me with a nervous laugh. "He's just kidding!! He'll just send you a strongly worded email!!"

I glared at him before turning back to Ascot-Man. "And another thing!! An ascot!! In 2020!! What is wrong with you!?" I tore it off of his neck and huffed, "There, now you look slightly less idiotic."

And then Father sent me to my room.

So yeah that's what happened there. I've been keeping tabs on them and so far I have seen no sign of them putting the dog in danger.

Good riddance. Because I would have indeed sent them a strongly worded email as well as the liver thing.

\- Damian


	6. Damian Doesn't Like Fiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason is horrified when he finds out Damian thinks fiction books are pointless. He has to rectify that.

Every one of the Waynes had their thing.

Bruce had Batman (obviously)

Dick had his trapeze.

Tim had solving cold cases.

Cass had ballet.

Duke had knitting. (“I helped an old lady that lived next door knit her grandson a blanket- Jason stop laughing -when I was in middle school and it grew on me.”)

Damian had art.

Jason had books.

He loved reading. It was his favorite thing to do. If he hadn’t died, Jason probably would’ve gotten a degree in English. He especially loved the classics. He was known to throw punches if someone had the audacity to say anything negative about Jane Austen’s writing.

Speaking of Jane Austen, Alfred had called Jason to inform him that he had found a copy of _Lady Susan_ in the library. Jason hadn’t read that one yet, so he was quick to jump on his bike and head to the manor.

He walked into the library, vibrating with excitement. Alfred had told him that he had left the book in Jason’s spot that he always read in when he was younger. It was in the far corner of the library, a comfy chair tucked into the corner.

Jason sprinted to the spot, skidding to a halt as he reached it. He scowled at the sight of someone in his chair. “Yo, Demon, get up,” he snapped.

Damian lifted his eyes to look at his older brother. “No,” he said stiffly, and went back to reading his book. Jason’s eye twitched.

“That’s my spot. Alfred said he left a book in the chair.”

“Oh, that dusty old _fiction_ book?” Damian asked with a raised eyebrow, spitting out the word ‘fiction’. “I placed it back on the shelf.”

Jason frowned as he ran his fingers along the spines of the books until he found the one he was looking for. Pulling it from the shelf, he spoke, “Why’d you say fiction like that?”

“Because, Todd, fiction is pointless. Reading nonfiction, actually learning something, is far more beneficial,” Damian explained in a _this should be obvious_ tone, flipping his page.

“Okay, one,” Jason began, “You’re wrong. Two, is that why you’re reading-” he narrowed his eyes to read the title of the book Damian was holding “- _A Cultural History of Physics_?”

“Obviously.”

Jason shook his head, disappointed in his brother but not really shocked. “Have you ever read a fiction book?”

“Only the required readings in school,” Damian replied in a bored tone, “And they are far from entertaining.”

“You’re fourteen and you’ve never even read _Harry Potter?_ ” Jason rubbed the bridge of his nose. “We have to rectify this. No brother of mine can dislike fiction.”

“Good thing we are not brothers,” Damian returned. Jason ignored that. He knew Damian didn’t mean it.

“Damian Wayne,” Jason said seriously, looking down at his brother who wasn’t looking at him, “I am making it my personal mission to find you a fiction book you like.”

“Go ahead. I will not read it.”

“Because you’re worried you’ll be proven wrong?”

“Do not be absurd.” Damian turned to the next page.

“Then humor me,” Jason insisted, “If I can’t find you a fiction book you like in a month, I’ll teach you how to choke people out your thighs.”

That made Damian look up from his book. He’d been demanding that Jason teach him that for months. “I accept,” he agreed, “But only because you will fail.”

_

Jason showed up at the manor the next day with _Harry Potter and the Sorceror’s Stone._ He walked into Damian’s room without knocking and dropped the book in front of Damian, who was sitting on his bed with his sketchbook. He picked up the book and scrunched his nose.

“Harry Potter?” he said, “Maya talks about this series all the time. I am familiar with the plot.”

“Thigh crush,” was all Jason said, and Damian rolled his eyes before opening the book. Satisfied, Jason left the room and went to his spot in the library to read _Lady Susan._

An hour later, he heard someone clear their throat. Jason looked up from the book to see his younger brother holding the book out to him. Jason raised an eyebrow, silently asking Damian what he thought.

“Abhorrent,” Damian stated before turning on his heel and leaving. Jason frowned. The brat didn’t like _Harry Potter?_ This was going to be harder than he thought.

Three days later, Jason was back, this time holding his copy of _Dracula._ It was a Gothic novel, and Damian wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine, so he had hope for this one.

An hour after handing him the book and going to the library, Damian tossed it into his lap.

“Atrocious,” Damian sniffed. Before he could leave, Jason stopped him. He went to one of the shelves and pulled out _Beyond Reach_ by Karin Slaughter.

“Here,” Jason handed him the book, “A murder mystery.”

Not mysterious enough, though, as Damian had given the book back to Jason the next day with a comment of “Predictable ending.”

Two days later, after the two had helped Dick stop a weapons trade-off, Jason handed Damian another novel after the younger boy had showered. It was _The Giver_ by Lois Lowry.

“Mundane,” Damian scoffed the next day.

Two weeks past and Jason was at a loss. How could a fourteen-year-old kid hate fiction? He’d given Damian all of his favorite books, and the kid didn’t like any of them.

Jason was wracking his brain on a rainy Tuesday in the manor library, his copy of _Frankenstein_ by Mary Kelley, a book Damian had called “flat,” sitting in his lap. He was running out of time. He didn’t want to teach Damian the thigh crush move, as it was too much fun to watch Damian get angry at his inability to figure it out. The boy would always end up calling Jason an ‘imbecile’ and storming to his room.

Jason was still thinking when he felt something brush against his leg. He looked down to see Alfred, Damian’s cat, looking up at him and purring.

Jason grinned as an idea struck him.

_

Jason threw a book at Damian, who caught it without looking. He frowned as he looked at it. “Warriors?”

“Yeah, it’s about cats,” Jason explained, “I used to read them when I was your age.” Damian loved animals and violence, so the Warrior Cat series, a series that combined both, seemed like something the boy would like.

Jason had a mission with the Outlaws for the next week, so he couldn’t see if Damian enjoyed it. On the last day, he went back to the manor and headed to Damian’s room. He wasn’t in there, but something was; _Warriors: The Sight._

A wide smile split across Jason’s face. That was the thirteenth book in the series. It must have been all Damian had done since he had seen him last.

Jason skipped down the stairs to the Bat Cave, where Damian probably was. He was right. Damian and Tim were down there, arguing. As usual.

“Listen, Gremlin, can’t you just do what I ask one time?”

“Absolutely not, you idiotic piece of crow-food, I would nev-” Damian stopped talking as Jason let out a shout of glee.

“Crow-food!” he echoed, “That’s a warrior cat insult! I win!”

“I did not say I enjoyed that series!” Damian protested.

Jason snorted. “Tell that to the thirteenth book lying on your bed.”

Damian scowled. Jason was right. He’d loved the series. It was emotional, the characters were cats, there was betrayal, battles. His main reason for enjoying them, though, was because the first two series starred cats who were looked down upon because of their origins. Firestar, the main character of the first arc, was born a housecat and was constantly having to prove himself, and he ended up becoming the leader. Brambleclaw, the star of the second arc, was the son of a mass murderer and had to prove that he wasn’t like his father. He ended up being second in command to Firestar. Damian related to that, having to prove himself over and over.

He had nothing to prove, of course, but he had never believed that.

“Fine,” he admitted, “The books are... adequate,”

Jason fist pumped. “I knew you’d come around, kid!”

“Shut up, you imbecile”

“I don’t feel like it,” Jason retorted, “In fact, just for that insult; Leafpool and Crowfeather are Jaypaw, Hollypaw and Lionpaw’s parents and Hollypaw isn’t part of the prophecy.”

“Did you- did you just-” Damian spluttered, hardly believing Jason would have the audacity to spoil the books. He wouldn’t wish a spoiler on anybody, not even Tim. He narrowed his eyes. “You better start running, Todd. Before I become the Scourge to your Tigerstar.”

Jason laughed as he ran off, Damian hot on his heels. Tim blinked.

“What…” he muttered to himself, “Just happened?”


	7. Nightwing & Robin & Jake Peralta (B99/Batfam)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley Quinn is in NYC. Captain Holt of the Nine Nine knows Batman.

_Brooklyn, New York City_

“Captain Holt! Captain Holt!”

An African-American man in a police captain’s uniform motioned for the person calling his name to enter his office, not looking up from his paperwork. “What is it, Peralta?”

A man in a leather jacket over a plaid shirt and dark brown hair ran to his captain, eyes bright with excitement as he slammed a file on Holt’s desk. “You’ll never guess who’s in New York!” Jake Peralta said with a wide smile, “Harley frickin Quinn, that’s who!!”

That got Holt’s attention. The man’s head shot up as he grabbed the file, flipping through the pictures from security cams. Sure enough, a pale woman with pigtails- one pink, one blue -was on top of a car with a comically large mallet, bashing the windows in as civilians ran from her, screaming.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Holt muttered, “Harley Quinn. What is she doing in New York?”

“I have no idea but do you know what this means!?” Jake was bouncing up and down on his toes. “We get to capture her!! We get to capture a villain Batman has fought!!”

“Peralta, you are a fool if you think we can take down Harley Quinn,” Holt interrupted him, pointing his pen at the detective.”We need help.”

“Like who, Batman?” Jake asked sarcastically with a laugh.

“Well, yes, of course,” Holt answered calmly, pulling out what looked like a futuristic-walkie talkie from his drawer. “I will call him.” Jake’s eyes bulged.

“You have Batman’s phone number!?”

The outburst caught the attention of the rest of the precinct. A Latina woman in a leather jacket and a short man with black hair walked into the office.

“I do not have his phone number. I just have this communicator he gave me,” Holt corrected him, “I was in Gotham on a case twelve years ago and helped him solve a murder. He gave me this in case I ever needed his help again, or if he needed mine.”

“And you never thought to tell us this!?”

“You never asked.”

“Are you surprised? It’s Holt we’re talking about,” the Latina woman, Rose Diaz, leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed. “Is this about the Harley Quinn sighting? She just broke up with the Joker. She’s probably here to get over him.”

“Diaz, that is no excuse,” Holt said sternly, “She’s vandalizing the city, and it isn’t long before she murders someone.”

“Yeah- wait, how do you know they broke up?” Jake asked with a frown.

“I used to date Batwoman.” Rosa replied nonchalantly. “We’re still friends.” Jake’s jaw dropped.

“You what-”

“I will not be accepting questions at this time,” she interrupted him, ignoring Jake’s splutters of protest.

“Everyone, get out,” Holt commanded, “I’m calling him.”

The detectives left the office. Jake’s face was frozen in a wonderstruck expression.

“My two dads know each other,” he whispered. Charles, the other man, frowned.

“Huh?”

“What?” Jake spluttered, having not meant to say that out loud, “Batman wasn’t the only man I looked up to a kid, why would you even say that? Get out, Boyle, I have to call Amy, and stop with your accusations!”  
_

_Three hours later, in Gotham City_

“Why do we have to assist the police in New York?” Damian sniffed, “Harley Quinn is easy to take down without the Joker.”

“You underestimate her, Damian,” Dick replied from the front of the Batwing, where he was flying the ship. “She’s remarkable. Us together could take her, but police can’t. She’s too good.”

Holt had called them on his communicator Bruce had given him. Bruce was off-world at the moment, so Dick and Damian were coming instead as Nightwing and Robin.

“Well, can you not handle this yourself? I do not trust Todd to watch all of Gotham.”

“Hey, Tim’s helping too!”

“That means nothing to me.”

Dick rolled his eyes behind his mask. “You need experience dealing with police that aren’t corrupt anyway, police you actually have to work with. This isn’t Gotham. We can’t just take over, and you need to learn how.”

“I can work with people!”

Dick gave him a disbelieving look. “I say this with nothing but love in my heart; you are very uncooperative with people not on your level of skill.”

Damian scowled before turning around to get himself a capri-sun.

Thirty minutes later, they had arrived at the 99th precinct of Brooklyn PD. As they walked in, they were met with an… interesting sight.

“Hitchcock, Scully, Nightwing and Robin will be here any minute and you’re covered in pizza sauce!” a dark-skinned man whose muscles rivaled Jason’s was yelling at two overweight men. The taller man shrugged.

“I’m sorry, Jefford,” Scully said, “But the sauce was hard to open.”

Terry Jefford’s eye twitched. “We want them to think we are a well-oiled machine, you two!!”

Damian’s nose scrunched in disgust. “This precinct is anything but,” he snarled to Dick, who elbowed him sharply, hoping Terry hadn’t heard.

He had.

“I am so sorry about these two,” he apologized nervously, whirling around, “I’m Lieutenant Jeffords.” he stuck out his hand for the vigilantes to shake.

“Nightwing,” Dick said, shaking Terry’s hand. After a stern look from his brother, Damian begrudgingly did the same.

“Boyle and Peralta are in the IT section going over security footage,” he said as he showed them to Holt’s office. He pointed to Rosa, who was sharpening an ax at her desk with her feet kicked up. “That’s Detective Diaz.”

She nodded at them in greeting. “Sup,”

“Nice ax,” Damian complimented, “Is that a Spiderco Warrior Hawk?”

“Yep,” Rosa replied with a grin, “It’s my baby. I take it everywhere.” Damian smirked.

“You see, Nightwing? It is not strange to carry a weapon on your person at all times.”

“Robin, you carry a _sword_ in your backpack at _school_ , that’s odd.”

“I agree,” Rosa said, “You need an ax. More compact.” Damian nodded thoughtfully.

“Perhaps that is a good idea. I will consider it.”

Dick pulled Damian into Holt’s office, who stood up and shook their hands.

“I am Captain Holt,” the man said, “Thank you for coming. Our precinct is not equipped to deal with the likes of Harley Quinn.”

“Clearly,” Damian snorted, “Two of your detectives are covered in pizza sauce.” He stopped talking at another stern look from Dick, who smiled at Holt.

“We’re happy to help,” he answered. “How much do you have so far?”

“Not a lot,” Holt replies, opening the file on his desk, “She has not killed anybody, that we know for sure. She seems to just be vandalizing vehicles. Originally, she was only bashing the cars with her hammer, but she has escalated to blowing them up. At least five people have been hospitalized due to burns.

“We have security camera footage of her,” he showed them the pictures Jake had given him, “and Detectives Peralta and Boyle are getting the video. They should be back anytime now.”

Dick squinted at the grainy security photo. “Robin, do you notice anything about her?” he handed the photo to Damian, who bit the inside of his cheek as he analyzed the picture.

“She does not have the ‘J’ necklace anymore,” he said, “which she always kept in the other splits she’s had with Joker.”

“Maybe she’s really done with him,” Dick mused, “Good for her.”

“Cap’n, I got the-“ Jake stopped talking as he halted in the doorway. His jaw dropped. “You’re here!! No way!! Nightwing and Robin are here!!”

“Nice to meet you!” Dick greeted with a wide smile

Jake didn’t answer for a few seconds, starstruck. Rosa elbowed him, breaking him out of his daze. “It’s so cool to meet you!! I’m Jake Peralta, the best detective the NYPD has ever seen.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, but before he could snark out a reply, Dick beat him to it. “Are you working the case?” he asked.

“Diaz and I, yeah,” Jake replied, “Terry and Charles are working on a separate serial killer case, the Hotdog Ripper.”

Dick blinked. “The… Hotdog Ripper?”

“I have heard of that case,” Damian stated, “Red Robin and I were looking at it. He’s a man who has been stabbing every hotdog stand worker in the city.”

“Yeah, and we’re closing in!” Charles yelled from the bullpen.

“Originally, the entire precinct was set to work the Quinn case, but after you two agreed to help, I had them continue the Hotdog Ripper case,” Holt explained.

“Makes sense.” Dick leaned his hands on Holt’s desk and kicked his feet up, doing a handstand subconsciously as he thought out loud. “So we know that she’s escalated from breaking windows to exploding cars. Next she’ll be blowing up buildings.”

The people in the office were silent, confused as to why the professional vigilante Nightwing, former apprentice to Batman, was doing acrobatics and more importantly, why Holt wasn’t stopping him.

Damian clenched his fists, hissing, “Nightwing, stop humiliating me in front of the police.”

“Huh?” Dick blinked, before realizing what he was doing. “Oh, sorry. Habit.” he jumped off the desk and landed on his feet. “Anyways, yeah, she’ll blow up buildings next.”

Rosa was the first to break out of her shock. “We can’t let that happen.”

“Quinn has Stockholm. She isn’t a hard psychopath like Joker,” Damian pointed out, glaring sharply at his brother as he spoke. “We know she’s capable of empathy because of how she refused to fight Black Canary when she found out she was pregnant.”

“So if we get her to realize she’d be hurting someone vulnerable, she might stop in her tracks.” Jake said.

“Yes, but what would we use? Nobody in the precinct is pregnant,” Holt countered.

Dick chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Well, we know she loves animals. If we put an animal near her, she’ll stop.”

“Yeah, like Cheddar!” Jake suggested, his eyes alight. Holt looked at him with a glare that was almost on-par with the Bat-Glare.

“We are _not_ putting my _fluffy boy_ in danger, you imbecile.”

“I agree,” Damian added, squaring his shoulders in an effort to look intimidating, “We cannot put animals in danger, especially ones untrained for danger.” Holt looked at him sharply.

“Excuse you, but Cheddar is highly trained,” he snapped.

“We’ll be watching him,” Dick pressed, “Nothing will happen. I promise. It’s the best way.”

“Yeah, Captain Holt, Cheddar’s a badass,” Jake added in a gentler tone, “He’ll be fine.”

Holt sighed. “Fine,” he gave in, “But he will have a tracker on him and I will have eyes on him at all times. And this had better work, because Kevin will make me sleep in the guest room for a week because of this.”

“Great,” Dick said with his hands on his hips, “So she usually strikes around midnight. There's an abandoned theatre called ‘Joke Palace’ on Kenobi Avenue. That’s probably where she’ll go. We’ll set up a stake out.” He paused. “If that’s alright with you, Captain.”

“Good enough for me.” Holt sweeped his gaze across the people in his office. “Peralta and Nightwing, you two sit in a car across the street from the building. Diaz and Robin, you two watch from one of the windows of the building next to the theatre. I will be watching with a SWAT team on the street behind. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Affirmative.”

“Yes, sir.”

“10-4.”

A few hours later, the Gothamites were talking to their respective partners. Jake and Dick were bonding over their love of action movies, while Damian and Rosa discussed fighting techniques.

“My favorite move is to choke guys out with my thighs,” Rosa was saying, “When perps make a sexist comment, I just wrap my legs around their necks and watch their faces turn purple. It’s cathartic.”

“Red Hood taught me how to perform that move recently,  
Damian replied, “I used it on the Riddler recently.”

“Ugh,” Rosa scrunched her nose, “That guy is so annoying. When I was in Gotham, he tried to mug me and said he would let me keep my money if I answered a riddle.”

“Did you get it correct?”

“I said ‘get fucked’ and kicked him in his stupid face.

“Usually, I only reply with a batarang” Rosa’s eyes widened ever so slightly- it would have been unnoticeable to anybody not trained in body language -and leaned forward.

“You’re lucky you're able to have those. I love my throwing stars but they’re so easy to dodge, a batarang would be amazing.”

At that moment, the elevator doors opened and a slender man with a corgi on a leash walked into the bullpen, meeting Holt in the middle.

“Thank you, Kevin,” Holt said, taking the leash from his husband. Kevin narrowed his eyes.

“If anything happens to him, you will be sleeping in the guest room for a year and I will replace all of your documentaries with Nicolas Cage movies.”

Holt took a sharp intake of breath. “No.”

“Yes, Raymond” Kevin replied stiffly, his eyes locked with Holt’s.

“Wait, why is that a bad thing?” Jake whispered to Dick. The orphan shrugged.

“It isn’t,” he whispered back, “Nicolas Cage has the best movies.”

“I will keep him safe,” Holt promised, “Do not worry. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Kevin replied. “Now, good-bye, I have to finish my Polybius readings.”

“They have, like, the opposite of fun,” Dick muttered, Jake nodded in agreement. He clapped his hands together.

“So, let’s figure out our cover,” Jake began, “My name is Arnold Fuglsang. I was born in Texas, but moved to New York when I was nine after my dad had sex with my mom’s best friend. My favorite movie is Top Gun and I have a knee fetish.”

“That’s brilliant!” Dick laughed, “Okay, so my name’s Jordan Barnes, and I’m from Britain. I left Britain to come to New York to fulfill my dreams of being a ballet teacher. I have a British accent and my favorite food is potato chips with mayonnaise on the side.”

“We’re geniuses!” the two high-fived.

“Uh, Nightwing?” Damian spoke, “You will be wearing your Nightwing suit, will you not? People will recognize you.”

Dick scowled. “Dang it.”

Two hours later, they were in positions. Damian and Rosa were perched at the window of a building beside Joke Palace.

“So,” Rosa cracked her knuckles, “Who’s the most annoying vigilante in Gotham?”

“Red Robin,” Damian answered with no hesitation. “He’s rude and ungrateful and unintelligent and calls me ‘Gremlin.’”

“Punch him.”

“I have.”

The two continued talking, Damian ranting about his brothers, surprised to find himself enjoying Rosa’s company.

“I wonder if they’re goofing off,” she pondered, looking at the car where Jake and Dick were.

“Nightwing can be childish on patrol, but this is Harley Quinn. I am sure they are taking this seriously.” Damian assured her.

“FEW TIMES I BEEN AROUND THAT TRACK SO IT’S NOT JUST GONNA HAPPEN LIKE THAT,” Dick and Jake yelled in the other car. Dick was air drumming while Jake played the air guitar. Both of the men were head-banging.

“CUZ I AIN’T NO HOLLABACK GIRL, I AIN’T NO HOLLAB-“ They were cut off by loud rumbles of their stomach.

“Man, I’m starving,” Jake said, “I didn’t have lunch, I took care of my son on my break so my wife could have a nap.”

“Honorable,” Dick replied. His stomach rumbled again, and he added, “I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I only had three bowls of cereal.”

“What kind?”

“Lucky charms, duh.”

“You know, we’re close to a general store,” Jake began, kicking his feet up on the dash, “We should totes get food.”

“We don’t have a bag,” Dick pointed out. Jake pointed out the window, and the vigilante grinned.

Ten minutes later, they were running out of the general store with two traffic cones filled to the brim with junk food. “Did you see their face?” Dick laughed, “Nightwing and a cop buying $50 worth of honeybuns? Priceless!”

“Man I’m so excited to eat these,” Jake said excitedly, “I hope Quinn waits a couple minutes.”

Dick’s eyes were sparklingly as he skipped back to the cat. “Me too!!”

Sadly, they didn’t get to eat more than three honeybuns between them, as Damian spotted Harley Quinn. Jake and Dick stopped joking around and were immediately serious.   
“Send out Cheddar,” Jake said into his comlink. The pair watched the dog trot down the street, his tongue lolling.

Harley had a lighter in her hand, tears running down her face, before turning at the sound of a soft bark. She gasped, and her eyes sparkled as she leaned down. “Hello, Cutie!! You’re so cute, yes you are! Yes you are!” she scratched Cheddar behind his ears as she continued to coo at him.

As soon as she set the lighter down, they were on her. Robin grappled to the top of the building and jumped down, landing on her back, knocking her to the ground. Nightwing ran behind him and gave a roundhouse kick to Harley’s head, knocking her out.

Jake and Rosa were right behind them. Jake blinked.

“That was too easy,” he said, “She’s like, badass, why was that so easy?”

“Because, Peralta,” Holt boomed, stepping around the corner with a SWAT team following. “Cheddar is a highly intelligent agent. We have _him_ to thank.”

Finally, at 3:00 AM, the brothers were ready to leave. Damian was standing at Rosa’s desk.

“Diaz,” Damian said seriously, offering his hand for a handshake, “You’re the only person in this city I respect.”

“Back atcha, Rob,” Rosa replied in the same tone of voice, taking Damian’s hand.

“Notice he said ‘human’,” Holt spoke up, “Because out of every living thing in New York, he respects Cheddar the most.”

“You are correct, Captain Holt,” Damian confirmed, “It has been the highest honor to work with him.” He reached into his utility belt. “I have a gift.” he said to Rosa, pulling out a batarang.“Take it, and use it wisely.”

Rosa grinned wide as she took the weapon. “Don’t worry dude, I’ll put it to good use.” Her eyes flickered to Hitchcock and Scully as she spoke.

“I’m gonna miss you, man,” Jake said to Dick.

“Me too, Jake,” Dick replied sadly, “But I’ll come back to NYC to see you, don’t worry.”

“I will do the same,” Damian said to Rosa. She smiled.

Dick looked at her before snapping his fingers. “I know where I recognize you now! I walked in on you and Batwoman sleeping together when I was still Robin!”

“Yeah,” Rosa chuckled, “Yeah you did.”


End file.
